Scarlet Pain
by Ashe Crow
Summary: Ch.110 EDITED more soonHPSS Slash: A spell in the dark and Harry has the most hellish summer at home yet. Can Severus find out the truth before Harry falls into despair? Explained OOCness MM, NC, HC
1. Chapter 1

**Title:**Scarlet Pain  
**Rating:**NC-17 For extremely adult themes dealing with rape, abuse, cutting (not Harry) and perceptions of evil.  
**Summary:** It has been a little over a year since Sirius' death (set in 7th year) and Harry shows up to Hogwarts acting strange. He has been through hell and back, yet refuses to tell anyone. But how long has he been falling into despair, and what is it slowly eating away at his courage. Will Severus be able to save him before it's too late?  
**Notes:** I want to address some issues that have come up with this story. First, I know that it may seem that some characters, most specifically Harry, acting OOC (getting weepy, hysterical, easily afraid, etc.). There is a reason for this, a reason in the story, that I can't say without giving away a major plot point. But I can say that it is explained in a way that (I hope) makes sense. Also the issue of 'why would his Uncle suddenly become an (even worse) abuser?' This ties in with the reason for Harry's odd behavior. That is all I have to say on the matter.

Side Note: I am helping out a friend with her thesis on slash culture. If you are at all interested in becoming a part of the process you can email me (see profile).

**Disclaimer:** Don't own so please don't sue. Original character concepts, etc, are all property of J. K. Rowling. I'm not making any money off this, nor do I have any worth sueing for. If you don't like M/M relationships then don't read this. Constructive critisism welcome but please no flames.**  
**

**Scarlet Pain **

Chapter One

_Harry looked around the Main Hall, a grin lighting up his face. All of his friends were there, happy, healthy, and alive. Everyone was smiling at him, even the Potions Master, though he had no idea why. Maybe Voldemort was dead?_

_'Oh, you would wish that wouldn't you?' _

_Harry whipped his head around at the noise, smile fading as his scar glowed an angry red. He screamed and clapped his hands to his forehead. When he looked up, everyone was still smiling, only now they were slowly crumbling before him. The Great Hall grew dark, cold, and the once happy faces that surrounded him were sneering at him through death._

_"What's happening?"_

_'Look at your hands, child.'_

_Harry looked, and let out a shocked cry. They were red and dripping with blood._

_'You killed them.'_

_"No, I – no!" Harry's eyes were wide and he looked around frantically until his gaze rested on the lifeless form of Albus Dumbledore. Even through death, the old wizard spoke to him._

_"Harry, I'm sorry but you failed. You'll have to return to your Aunt's house until something can be done to…rectify this situation."_

_This time Harry screamed in earnest and struggled against the sudden iron grip that took him to his room in the house on Privet Drive. The hands that held him turned rough as they threw him on his bed._

_"No! I'm sorry! I'm sorry. Please don't do this."_

_He tried to fight against the hands, but he had been stripped of his magic and had nothing to fight back with. He struggled, until the first voice spoke again; the raspy, snaky voice of the creature that had killed his parents. Then came the cold, the oily, freezing darkness that clogged his throat and drained his courage._

_'You realize that you deserve this don't you? You brought this on yourself. You killed them, and now you'll suffer for it.' The voice cackled in his mind, and Harry felt himself torn apart from the inside, the body above him using him for its own pleasure…_

Harry lunged out of his bed with sharp gasp, his body trembling. It took a moment for him to recognize where he was; in his dorm at Hogwarts. He glanced at his watch, and knowing that he would never get back to sleep, crept downstairs to the common room to work on homework. As the "Boy Who Lived" settled down to write a Transfigurations essay that wasn't due for another two weeks, he idly thought how glad he was that it had only been a nightmare and not a vision. Visions usually involved more lingering pain.

Back up in the seventh year dorm, Ron stared sadly after his friend. This was the third time this year, and classes had only started a week and a half ago! With a depressed sigh, the redhead burrowed back into his blanket, barely noticing the unusual chill that had permeated the room.

"Damnit Harry! What happened to you?"

Harry stared out of the window of his room, watching as rain water made tiny patterns on the glass. After a moment, he finally turned back to his two friends, Ron and Hermione, who were sitting on his bed, staring worriedly at him.

"Can't you guys just let it be?" He sighed. He didn't want to answer their questions, to explain to his friends why he jumped at shadows and flinched when brushed against in the hall. Ron looked pained, but Hermione just got angry.

"No! Something happened over the summer, and we want to know what. You've been walking around like half a person!"

Ron finally decided to add something. "Harry, you may think that I don't notice but I do. You haven't had one night yet in which you don't wake up panicked or worse." At this Harry looked up in surprise, he'd thought the silencing spells he'd put around his bed had taken care of that problem.

"Give me some credit," Ron told him when he noticed the other boy's expression. "I'm your best mate, it's my job to notice these things."

Harry huffed and turned back to the window. He knew what they were saying was true. Ever since Sirius had died, things had gone from bad to worse. That summer, the emotional violence at "home" had gotten out of hand, not that anyone knew. _Or cared, _a suspicious voice in the back of his head added. Harry had also been getting visions regularly, and had begun to take potions all the time to counter the pain. And that wasn't even the beginning.

His sixth year had been difficult and he had just barely begun to recover from his godfather's death, had just barely forgiven Dumbledore for manipulating him, had just barely begun to believe that maybe he wasn't at fault after all. Then, after an unusual semester, he had been called back to the Dursely's for winter break. A shudder ran down his spine at the thought of his only living relatives. Harry jumped when he felt gentle hands rest on his shoulders.

"Hermione?" His voice sounded so small, even in his own ears. Ron stood awkwardly behind her, wanting to comfort him but not knowing how.

"Harry," Ron gave his best friend's hand a short squeeze. "You can trust us, mate. We're here for you."

"Why?" His friends gave him a shocked look.

"Because we're your friends. Friends don't just give up on each other. They take care of one another, through good times _and_ bad." Harry wanted to die, to curl up and sob his heart out to his friends. But he didn't. Instead he listened to that hurtful voice in the back of his head, the one that strangely echoed from his dreams. _You're nothing! You'll end up killing them all, just like the rest. You're nothing but a tool, and when you've outlived your usefulness, you will die. It's your fault they will all die. _Harry pushed his friends away and made to run out the door, but Hermione grabbed his arm.

"Harry, please!" Tears were streaming down Hermione's cheeks. Ron twisted his hands into knots, completely unsure of what to do. "Harry, please. What happened to you?"

"I," Harry stopped, tears of his own threatening to fall. "Don't you get it! You're all going to die! Just, don't touch me anymore!" He choked back a sob and fled, leaving his friends in a stunned silence.

Later that day, Ron approached his friend in the library.

"Look, Harry," He stopped when he saw the tear stains on Harry's cheeks. "You don't have to tell us what's going on with you. But you can't expect us to just leave you. Everyone else may think you're the only hope of the Wizarding world, but we know different. You're just you, Harry, and we don't want you to be anyone else." Harry looked at him. Ron took an awkward step forward and wrapped his arms around his friend. Harry stiffened slightly, and Ron pulled away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

"Don't you get it though," Harry whispered harshly. "I can't save you, and he'll kill you for being my friends." Ron smiled wanly. He knew that, and he sometimes feared it too. But Harry was his_ friend, _a term no Weasely took lightly.

"I know that I haven't always been the best of friends," Ron said, remembering fourth year with regret. "But 'Mione is right, friends don't give up on friends, no matter what. And that snake-faced bastard won't stop us from being your friends." Harry gave him a sad grin and nodded. "Good, let's go get dinner."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Don't own, so please don't sue. Original character concepts belong to J.K. Rowling...etc, etc, etc.

**Scarlet Pain **

Chapter Two

Harry was shaking uncontrollably. He tried to bite back the fear that bubbled in his throat, failing as another wave of shudders passed through him. Red, all he could see was red, dripping from his hands. They were dying, and he would be punished. Harry gave a small whimper. Hermione rubbed his arms.

"Harry. Harry. Come back to us. It's okay." She pulled the shaking young man into her lap, rubbing his back until she felt his breath come regularly. Carefully laying her now sleeping friend onto his bed, she turned, grabbing Ron and pulling him swiftly from the room. It had been a month since the day they'd convinced Harry to stop pushing them away, but he still refused to talk to them about whatever had happened over the summer, or anything about his family at all.

"Those slimy bastards!" Hermione nearly shrieked. Ron looked at his girlfriend with a mix of awe and surprise. He'd never heard Hermione use such foul language before. "Ron, we've got to do something." In a matter of seconds the girl's voice had gone from simmering with rage to utter hopelessness. "This is the third time this week! It's getting worse." Ron wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back much like she had just been doing to Harry. "What do we do?"

"I don't know, love. I don't know." Suddenly Hermione stopped crying and straightened up.

"We have to tell Dumbledore."

"What?"

"We have to tell someone. Those bastards abused him, probably did unspeakable things to him. That's only explanation! He wasn't even this bad after being captured last year. We have to tell someone who can do something about this!"

Ron looked nervous. "But Harry never said one way or the other. Wait," he held up a hand to prevent Hermione from interrupting. "He's never told us what happen. We have no proof, and I'm familiar enough with the way things work that even if we had suspicions, there's not much we can do without evidence." Hermione looked at him hopelessly.

"What about that scar around his neck you saw two nights ago?"

"If we can't get Harry to admit he even _has_ it, to _us_, we'll never be able to get help for him."

"But we have to do something."

"I know that." There was a long silence. "Your right Hermione. We need to tell an adult. But I don't think Dumbledore is the right one." Hermione gave him a startled look.

"Why?"

"Have you noticed how he only responds to you and Ginny, and not to me?" Her look of confusion grew. "Love, he's afraid of men. He even flinches when I touch him." He waited a while for his words to sink in, pushing away the hurt at knowing in this situation he couldn't help Harry himself. "Plus, he's just starting to trust Dumbledore again, I don't think the Headmaster is really the right person to go to."   
Hermione was stunned. She never thought that Ron was dense, but this was the first time she had seen him be so perceptive. Hermione chewed on her bottom lip in thought.

"I think maybe Madam Pomfrey, or even Madam Hooch. Do you thing McGonagall might work?" Ron nodded.

"Let's go find Pomfrey. She's a nurse, so she'll probably be best suited for….this."

Harry awoke a few moments later to an empty room. Depressed that his friends had left him, he shook his head and looked outside. It was getting dark, and by the looks of it, only half an hour remained before dinner was over. He pulled his hand through his unruly hair and slipped out of his room, slowly making his way to the main hall.

Snape glared at the students with his usual scowl and continued eating his dinner while pointedly ignoring the rest of the staff. He stabbed at food when bits of Madam Hooch's conversation with McGonagall caught his attention.

"He's been so quiet lately, I'm not sure what to think anymore," Madame Hooch stated. "He normally loves flying, but it's almost as if nothing seems to interest him. Have you noticed anything different Minerva?"

"Other than that his grades have shot up?" She sighed. "A bit. I'm worried, to tell you the truth. I've never seen him so…despondent. Even after Black died he didn't seem so...so-"

"Broken?" asked a quiet voice. The two women looked over at Madame Pomfrey. She didn't normally eat meals with the rest of the staff, but recently she had been appearing more and more frequently.  
"I've noticed it as well, along with some other rather disturbing things."

"Poppy?" Professor McGonagall looked at her sharply.

"He hasn't been eating much during mealtimes. And when he came in for his check up at the beginning of school, I noticed some suspicious scarring. Some in particular around Harry's neck and wrists."

"Why haven't you mentioned this before?" The head of the Gryffindor house snapped.

"I've been trying to get Harry to talk to me, Minerva, not to mention it could just be remnants of last Christmas," was the patient reply. "I'm not sure. But if suddenly everyone was worried about him, he would most likely fold back into himself. Without his word, we have nothing to work with."

"What about using a truth serum?" Hooch asked.

"That would be unethical," she held up her hand and continued. "As much as I want to, in doing so I would also lose Potter's trust, which could cause even more damage." The conversation died suddenly as Ginny and Ron walked timidly up to the table.

"Madam Pomfrey, could we speak with you for a moment?" Hermione asked.

"Of course dears. What is it you need." Ron shifted nervously.

"Could we speak to in private? It's…urgent." With a nod to the other professors, Pomfrey quickly left the main hall followed by the two students.

Snape let his mind drift away from the conversation and on to the boy in question. Harry Potter. The spoiled brat had been a thorn in his side for too long. Even so, the Potions Master had also noticed the rather disturbing change in his least favorite student. One incident in particular came to mind, the detention he'd had with the boy last night.

_There was a loud explosion and then deathly silence. Snape looked over to see a very stunned looking Harry covered in the remains of his potion._

_"Mr. Potter! 50 points from Gryffindor and a weeks worth of detention. Really Mr. Potter, can't you control your clumsiness even for a day?" Harry just looked at him in shock. He was still sitting on the ground, Hermione bending over him checking to see if he was okay, and a very angry Ron glaring at the smirking form of one Draco Malfoy. Snape realized what must have happened, and waited gleefully for Harry to argue with him. Instead the boy just looked down almost meekly and nodded his head._

_"Sorry sir." He muttered quietly. Ron looked at him, shock clearly etched on his face. Snape looked at Harry, surprised as well, though hiding it behind a sneer._

_"Are you planning on waiting till a litter comes to take you away, Mr. Potter? Or are you planning on getting up and continuing to grace us with your presence till the end of class?" Snape was being overly nasty and he knew it. He also realized that something was terribly wrong when Harry's eyes widened in fear as he scrambled shakily to his feet once again muttering a soft "Sorry, sir."_

_Later that day when Harry had come for his detention, the Potions Master had noticed how skittish the boy was. He would step back whenever the professor got too close, and flinched whenever Snape called his name. Finally, he had gotten so fed up and disturbed by Harry's behavior that he had stomped over to the boy and grabbed the large spoon the boy was using to stir the potion he had been instructed to make. Harry yelped and jumped back, noticeably shivering._

_"I'm sorry, sir.." Snape sighed in exasperation. The boy hadn't even done anything other than what he'd been told, and still he was apologizing. This wasn't going well at all. When Snape gave Harry his full attention, looking him straight in the eye as if searching for something, the boy paled considerably and took a few more steps back. Snape did not miss the flick of his eyes to the doorway, the fearful look that told him Harry wanted to do nothing more than run for his life. When the Potions Master muttered a quiet "Dismissed," Harry did just that. _

Snape snapped himself out of his reverie as Harry stumbled into the main hall looking as if he hadn't slept in over a week. The boy sat down in the far corner, ignoring the worried and somewhat fearful stares of the other students as he picked at his food. Fifteen minutes and three bites later, Harry was already stumbling out of the hall. Yes, something was definitely wrong, and Snape decided that he and Potter were going to be having a chat during the boy's detention tomorrow.

Harry wandered the halls with no clear intent on where he was going. When he ended up at Myrtle's bathroom, he figured now was as good a time as any to have a chat with one of, in his opinion, the most annoying ghosts at Hogwarts.

When Harry stepped quietly into the ghost's bathroom, he was brought up short by the most unexpected, and disturbing, scene.

Draco had already told that obnoxious girl ghost to piss off, and for once, she had. Moaning and crying loudly of course, but at least she had left him in peace. He looked down at his exposed wrist, smooth and unblemished as the day he was born, and brought the knife down hard. Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes, tears he ignored and forbid to fall. The cuts were far from deep and weren't anywhere near life threatening, but they still hurt. But if he was going to be unable to escape his fate, he figured he better get used to pain. He brought the knife down again, tearing another cut into his wrist before switching hands and starting on his other arm. He froze when the door of the bathroom opened to show none other than the Potter brat.

Harry watched as Draco's eyes narrowed.

"Get out Potter," he hissed angrily. He made no move to cover his handiwork. Harry just stared at his wrists before looking back up into Draco's eyes.

"Why?" he asked. "Why are you doing that?"

"Why the fuck do you care, Potter. Just get out!" Harry could see that Draco was panicking, though he hid it so well that it was possible no one else would have ever noticed.

"No." Harry couldn't think of anything else to say. He was still so shocked and disheartened by the picture before him that he couldn't even bring himself to remember that he was supposed to hate the blond.

Draco raised an eyebrow in a stunning imitation of Snape. "No?" he sneered, once again looking surprisingly like his godfather, and raised the knife again. Harry's eyes widened and he took an involuntary step back. Draco just smirked and slammed the blade onto his own wrist.

"NO!" Harry yelled and without thinking lunged forward and grabbed the blonde's wrist to stop him, yanking the knife out of his grasp. Draco tried to pull his arms back, but realized that for being so small, the Potter boy was surprisingly strong. Instead of getting hysterical, the blonde decided for angry.

"Let go of me, Potter!"

"Don't do this Draco," Harry said quietly. "It's not worth it!"

"What the fuck do you care?"

"Too many people are hurting because of that slimy snake-faced git, too many people have already been hurt or killed because I can't fix this whole fucked up mess!" Harry was yelling now. "I'm not going to let you add yourself to the list, I don't care if you are a Malfoy." Draco stared at him in shock and a twinge of fear. He'd never seen Potter get like this, so angry and at the same time so…exhausted.

Snape heard the yelling as he was making his way to his dungeons from the Great Hall, and growled quietly. Would these mindless dunderheads ever get over themselves? He stormed into Moaning Myrtles bathroom expecting to see a couple in the middle of a breakup, or something of the sort. Instead he walked in on Potter, knife in hand, holding a bleeding and shocked looking Draco. Without thinking, he yanked Potter back by the collar of his shirt.

"What, in Merlin's name, is going on here," He hissed out coldly.

Harry stumbled and fell, and looked up into the cold and furious eyes of the Potions Master. He felt the blood drain from his face as he backed up slowly against the wall. Draco's face flickered with something akin to fear before his mask dropped down. With a touch of caution he bent down and picked up his knife.

"Nothing," he said smoothly. "We were just talking, Professor." Snape rounded on his godson, Harry momentarily forgotten. His eyes narrowed as he took in the state of Malfoy Jr.

"Why are you bleeding?" He asked icily, he wasn't quite sure what he had just walked in on, but he was not going to brush it off like Draco wanted him to. The blonde looked at him and quailed slightly, seeing something in the Professor's eyes that made him shiver.

"Potter walked in on me," he said carefully. Snape reached out and almost gently took Draco's slim wrists into his hands.

"Why?" he asked, not realizing that he was echoing Harry's earlier question.

Draco shook his head, his expression pained and suddenly very wary. "You aren't going to tell _Him_, are you?" The blonde mentally berated himself for sounding so like a frightened child. Snape looked him hard.

"I want you to go directly to see Madam Pomfrey. I will meet you there, then we are going to see the Headmaster." Draco wanted to argue, but knew it was futile. Oh, Merlin, he was in for it now. They both started when Harry raspy voice filled the silence.

"Red," he whispered in horror. He was staring at his hands, covered in drops of Draco's blood. Harry was trembling, already starting to fall into the panic. The sudden silence around him made him look up. His eyes widened as if he suddenly realized where he was and whom he was with, and the trembling got harder. "No," he whimpered when Snape took a step toward him. "I – I didn't. I didn't do it." He scrambled to his feet in a panic. "I'm sorry, I didn't, I won't –" Harry lunged for the door. He had to get out. The fear was taking control and a the last rational part of his brain was telling him that he did _not_ want to have an attack while in front of his two most hated people besides Voldemort. Harry felt a hand grab his arm and shrieked, twisting his body until it let go, then ran.

Snape looked down at a stunned Malfoy.

"Draco," the blonde looked up. "Go to the Infirmary. Now." His tone brooked no argument, and Draco pulled his sleeves down before making his way towards the hospital wing of Hogwarts. Once he was gone, Snape went in search of Harry. With a sigh, he realized that he was nearly out of headache potion, and after tonight he had a feeling he was going to need a lot of it.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Yeah I don't own these characters, so please don't sue me.

**Scarlet Pain **

Chapter Three

The three Gryffindors left the infirmary with Pomfrey's assurances that she would help them with Harry. No sooner were they down the hall than they heard an agonized shriek.

"That sounded like Harry," Ginny said, eyes widening.

"Oh Merlin," Ron muttered. And the three took off down the hall. They didn't notice the blonde figure that pressed himself into the shadows as they passed.

Harry couldn't think beyond running. He didn't hear his voice being called beyond the massive roaring in his ears. The voice was back, taunting him as he stumbled up a flight of stairs. And the oily coldness that seemed to stem from nowhere and everywhere at once. Clapping his hands around his ears in a vain attempt to muffle the accursed voice, Harry shook his head in panicked denial. The motion, paired with the sudden movement of the staircase he was on sent him crashing to the ground.

"I didn't do it, I didn't!" he whispered.

Ron spotted him first, and the three Gryffindors sprinted up the staircase after him just before it started moving away.

"Harry!" Hermione crooned. The trembling figure froze. "Harry, it's us, its okay. You're at Hogwarts, no one's going to hurt you here." She crept forward slowly, keeping her body low, continuing to make soft cooing noises.

Snape watched from the shadows as the bushy haired Gryffindor began to slowly rub Harry's arms, making sure that he saw who she was before pulling him to a hug. He realized with a start that she must have done this many times before in order to be so good at it. He also noticed that Ron had yet to step forward. It wasn't until Ginny nodded up at him that the red head even started to move cautiously forward. They all kept their voices soft and comforting, and Snape crept forward to see if he could make out their conversation.

"Harry, do you know where you are?" Ron asked softly. Harry gave a self-deprecating laugh that sounded almost like a sob.

"In an emotional wreck somewhere on a staircase in Hogwarts?" Ron nodded miserably and sat down next to them. Hermione disentangled herself from Harry, who had stuffed his still bloody hands under his robes before any of them could see.

"Harry, what happened?" Ginny asked, not quite sure if she was asking about what had sent him into another panic attack or what had happened over the summer.

"I'm a nutcase and should be sent St. Mungo's for hearing voices?"

"What?" Hermione asked, looking at him sharply.

"No 'Mione, it wasn't Voldemort this time, just my guilty conscious."

"You have nothing to be guilty over! When will you get that?" Ginny snapped at him. Harry looked at her, startled. "Sorry," she muttered. "I just don't like seeing you like this, okay? None of us do."

"I know," Harry said it so quietly that Snape barely caught it. There was a pause before Ron spoke up.

"So what happened?"

"Snape." Their heads snapped around and looked at him, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "And Malfoy." Ron seethed.

"I'm going to hex that stupid, evil git – "

"It wasn't like that," Harry sounded tired and sad. "I think I kind of surprised Malfoy by walking in on him."

"Walked in on him doing what?" Ron sounded suspicious. "Tormenting another poor student? Or – " For the second time, Harry cut his friend off.

"Don't Ron, just don't. I don't think Draco's as bad as he seems." There was a stunned silence. Ron looked at him in disbelief. Even Snape was having a hard time believing that Potter had just said that. Harry looked back at him with exasperation. "Think about it, his father's a Death Eater. What kind of life do you think he's led? It's no wonder he's a sodding prick most of the time; I would be too." There was an uncomfortable silence.

"What about Snape, you said he was there?" Hermione asked, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"He came in while Draco and I were… arguing." Harry shifted uncomfortably. "He startled me."

"What did he do?"

"Nothing."

"What did he do, Harry?" Harry looked up at his friends, who were all looking at him sternly. There was no way he was getting out of answering this one.

"He was absolutely livid," Harry shivered at the memory, the rough yank by an iron grip and a glare that would have bored through him if it could have. "I don't think I've seen him that mad since… or maybe I've just never noticed before." The shivering increased. Ginny scooted over and rubbed his back. "This may sound completely crazy, but I trust him. I mean, he's never been nice, but he's saved me so many times, and he's probably the only one who doesn't see the scar first. But in that moment, he… I thought," his breath hitched. "All I could think was that he was going to…to." His words lost in the shuddering that he couldn't hold in.

Snape melted further back into the shadows before turning and heading to the Infirmary to check on his godson. This had given him a lot to think about, and he some preparing to do before the boy's detention tomorrow.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Don't own, please don't sue. This is slash, so if you're against M/M relationships, then you shouldn't be here reading this.

**Scarlet Pain **

Chapter Four

Draco shifted nervously and looked everywhere but at his godfather as they walked towards the Dumbledore's office. He would never have admitted it, but he was beginning to feel the first real threads of fear. That and the events of the past hour had left his mind reeling from confusion. Was Snape going to tell the Dark Lord, or almost worse, his father, about what he had been doing? Why was he being brought to the Headmaster – was it true that Snape was a spy and that's why he wasn't punishing him privately? And what the hell had been up with Potter?

He was so lost in thought that he barely registered when they had finally reached the gargoyle. His head snapped up and he fought to keep his arrogant façade in place.

"Come in boys," the Headmaster's disgustingly cheery voice called to them. They entered, Draco somewhat hesitantly. Snape had yet to say a word to him since the incident in the bathroom.

Dumbledore gestured for them to take a seat. "Sherbert lemon?"

"No thank you," Snape bit out tersely. Draco just shook his head.

"Tea then?" The Headmaster's eyes twinkled like little stars. Little, obnoxious, all-knowing stars that were hyped up on way too much sugar.

"No." Again Draco just shook his head mutely. "Mr. Malfoy, if you would be so kind as to inform the Headmaster what happened?" The blonde just looked up at him confused. Why didn't Snape just tell him? But the Potions Master just raised an eyebrow at him, his expression almost…thoughtful.

"Please don't call me that, professor. It makes me feel like my father." Draco muttered. Instead of the usual snarky comment, Snape just nodded slowly. There was a pause before Draco finally heaved an exaggerated sigh, and put on his most uncaring mask.

"Professor Snape caught me…" he struggled with his words before finally pulling his father's knife out of his pocket and placing it gingerly onto the desk in front of the Headmaster. "He caught me using this on myself." The twinkle dimmed slightly. "I wasn't trying to kill myself," Draco sounded exasperated. "I was just...relieving some tension."

"What kind of tension, Draco?" Dumbledore's voice was soft and so understanding that Malfoy Jr. wanted to burst into tears and beg the Headmaster to save him. Instead he shrugged.

"I've been under a lot of pressure," his voice sounded strained. Merlin he wanted to talk to the Headmaster about this. He was probably the only wizard that could save him now. But there was no way he was talking in front of Snape, possible spy or not Draco was unwilling to run that risk. As if reading his thought, Dumbledore looked suddenly at Snape.

"Severus, could you possibly give us a few minutes?" Snape's eyes narrowed in suspicion before he gave a quick nod and stalked out of the office. "Now Draco, what is it that is bothering you?"

"Honestly? I don't want to end up like my father; groveling and kissing the robes of a snake faced manipulating bastard that has no qualms about making even his most trusted servants beg for mercy at the slightest whim. I want to be on the winning side in this. And I," he paused. "I don't want to let Him or any other of his disgusting followers," Draco stopped again, not sure how to continue. "I don't want them to use me. I've seen how they treat the newbies after they've outlived their recruiting days. I see how they still treat anyone with an ounce of youth or beauty," he gave a small shudder. "And I don't want that to be me." He halted, and refused to look at the Headmaster. There was a long silence, and for a moment the blonde feared that Dumbledore wouldn't believe him. He looked up in despair. "Please." Oh dear Merlin he, a Malfoy, had been reduced to begging.

The Headmaster nodded. "Severus, you can come back in now." When the Potions Master walked back in, Draco's eyes widened in realization. Snape had heard the entire thing, and by extension the Dark Lord would know of his treachery.

"But, I," he was on his feet. He felt himself backing up in fear and he looked at Dumbledore feeling betrayed.

"Calm down dear boy. Are you sure you don't want tea?" That damned twinkle was back and Draco wondered idly if the Headmaster kept a little store of fireflies somewhere that kept his eyes continuously glowing; and wondered if he would ever get the chance to find and destroy all of them.

"Are you going to tell him, Albus?" Dumbledore nodded slowly, his face suddenly becoming very serious.

"Draco, I – we – are going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume what you have said is true. You have my protection, but that is also going to cost you. Until such times as we see fit, you will be restricted to the grounds of Hogwarts. And you will only be allowed outside the castle with an escort." The blonde nodded his understanding, even though he wasn't happy about it.

"Does this mean that their suspicions are true? That Sna – Professor Snape is not loyal to the Dark Lord?" He saw his godfather stiffen slightly. If there were suspicions, he would have to start working extra hard to keep his position.

"All in good time, dear boy. Now, I think you should run along to your new quarters adjoined to Professor Snape's rooms." Both the Slytherins looked up in shock, though Snape hid his better. "You will find that all your things have already been moved."

"Yes Headmaster." Draco swallowed hard, realizing that he had absolutely no idea what was going on, making the threads of his previous fear grow into long thick ropes that threatened to strangle him. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a gentle hand place itself on his shoulder and was almost shocked to look up into the nearly soft gaze of his godfather.

"No one is going to hurt you here, Draco. Do you understand?" The tone had been firm, but not biting and the blonde Slytherin could only nod dumbly before making his own way down to the dungeons in a slight daze. He never even realized that he had left his father's blade in the office.

Snape looked back at the Headmaster after the boy had left. Without a word he dropped himself into the chair that Draco had just vacated and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to will away the headache.

"I wouldn't mind some of that tea Albus," Snape said in an uncharacteristic display of exhaustion. Dumbledore only nodded and handed him the cup. There was a long pause as Snape sipped slowly at the warm liquid before continuing. "There's more to what happened than what he said."

Dumbledore just nodded his encouragement.

"When I found him, he was in the middle of a screaming fit with Potter. I believe Potter walked in on him and attempted to stop him. I will admit that I…jumped to some unpleasant conclusions." He stopped and finished off his cup and set it down. "Have any of the other teachers talked to you about him?"

"Yes, apparently there is some concern about his recent behavior, as well as suspicions about occurrences that may have happened over the summer." Dumbledore sighed, his face gone grave. "I've been hoping he would come talk to me, but, well." The Headmaster shrugged. "I'm worried about him Severus. Something has happened and despite what all you youngsters think Snape gave a soft snort but held his tongue, I am not omniscient." Snape just nodded. For a while he just sat, lost in thought. Yes, it was true that the Potter brat had been a thorn in his side, that the little cretin had tormented him for over six years, not to mention violated his privacy (he had apologized later, not that that had changed anything) and had treated him with nothing but disrespect from day one. But, contrary to popular belief, Snape was not a heartless bastard, and he was, much to his dismay, all too familiar with the signs that Harry (when had it become Harry and not Potter?) was exhibiting.

"Albus, may I have permission to…investigate further?" His voice sounded forced and very stiff, as if he was requesting a second round with that three-headed nightmare Fluffy (though he thought that that would most likely have been much, much easier).

"Yes, I think that would be acceptable." Damn, there was that insufferable twinkle again. "And while you're at it, I would like you to start up Occlumency with him again. He and I worked on it some last year, but with the events of the winter holiday, we were interrupted and never finished the lessons. Now I'm afraid he may not be ready for me to be his teacher in this again."

"What? You can't be serious!" Snape was suddenly furious. "I will not have that insufferable brat disrespecting my privacy again."

"I am very serious Severus. Please let him know tomorrow." And damn again, there was that tone of voice that Snape knew not to even try to argue with.

"Very well," the Potions Professor clipped, rising stiffly.

"Goodnight Severus." Snape nodded in acknowledgment and swept out the office in a billowing of robes. He missed the decidedly amused comment the Dumbledore said once he was gone. "Drama queen." The Headmaster grinned and helped himself to another sherbert lemon.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Don't own, please don't sue, etc.

**Scarlet Pain **

Chapter Five

Draco stood up warily as Severus entered the blonde's new chambers. The Potions Master didn't say a word and for a while the two just stared at each other warily. Finally the younger Slytherin broke the silence.

"Does the Headmaster know you're a Death Eater?" 

"Yes."

"So their suspicions are true then. That you're a spy?" Severus nodded slowly. "So then," Draco tried not to choke with fear. "So you're not going to kill me or turn me in as a traitor." Snape stepped forward and knelt in front of his godson, his eyes searching for something.

"How do I know you are telling the truth, Mr. Malfoy?" Malfoy glared at him suddenly.

"I guess you don't do you?" He sneered. "I guess it's possible that I'm trying to trap you, that I could possibly want to spend my entire life being used and tortured by that freaky half-breed – " Draco stopped suddenly, eyes widening in horror. He'd really done it now. Now there was no question…

"Draco, stop. I just needed to check." The blonde nodded. There was a long silence before Snape stood up, mask falling back into place. "Go to bed Mr. Malfoy, you should get some sleep. We will discuss the incident in the bathroom tomorrow." 

"Wait, Professor." Severus paused. "I'm," his mouth fought against his net words "I'm sorry for what I did. I don't know how easy it's going to be for me to stop, now that I've tasted it, but I want to try." Snape nodded then turned to leave.

"Wait."

"What is it Draco?" He sounded tired, and the blonde Slytherin wondered if this was really the right time to mention this.

"It's about Har – Potter." Severus stiffened and his eyes narrowed. "I think something has happened to him."

"And why does his welfare suddenly interest you Mr. Malfoy."

"Damnit Professor, don't get all suspicious on me. He stopped me in there; he, for whatever reason…_cared_, even after six years of torment from me. Even though it was obvious he was terrified, of what I'm not sure, but… Aren't you at all concerned?"

"Why should I be concerned about that spoiled brat?" Snape sneered, knowing that even if he believed his own words, he wasn't acting in accordance with them, something that confused the Potions Master to no end.

Draco stiffened noticeably and whatever emotion that had shown through his silver eyes vanished. "Excuse me Professor for admitting to having a heart, even if it is a small one. I'm going to bed now, goodnight." Without saying another word he turned his back on his godfather, pointedly ignoring him. Severus stalked out of the boy's room, angrier than when he'd found out that Albus wanted him to begin teaching Potter Occlumeny again. Something he had not expected to feel from Draco's words was guilt and a pervading sense of sadness; yet feel them he did. Not wanting to think about the implications of these unwelcome emotions, Severus quickly stripped down and went to bed. Unfortunately for him, however, it was a long time before he fell into a restless sleep.

_You can't run from your punishment forever. We will get you, and when we do, you will beg for your death before we're done. You can't run and hide forever…_

Harry sat up, breathing heavily, sweat making his pajamas stick to him uncomfortably. Without a sound he grabbed his father's invisibility cloak and crept out of the Gryffindor tower. For a while he just wandered, the events of the summer and the past few years passing through his head. Eventually, he found himself climbing the astronomy tower stairs.

For a long time Harry just stared out of the window, watching as a nearly full moon rose over Hogwarts. The words of his dream flitted across his mind. _You can't run and hide forever…_ It was true, he couldn't. He'd spent the last two months walking in a daze, terrified and in shock. He'd cringed at every shadow, flinched from touch, and pushed his friends away. How was he supposed to save the Wizarding World from Voldemort if he couldn't even pull himself together enough to walk down the halls of Hogwarts without fear?

The events of the summer pulled at his mind. He'd been abused, tormented, violated. He'd had what childhood was left to him stolen…all because of fear. He realized that now. Fear was his enemy, just like Remus had said back in third year, and if he couldn't fight that then he would die. It was so hard, though. Harry tried to stop thinking about how much he wanted help with this, someone to hold him when he was afraid, to sooth the ache that had built in his chest over the past few months. Someone with whom he could just be.

_Someone help me, please_. He forced the thought away and realized to his frustration that there were tears staining his cheeks. He wiped them away angrily and turned his gaze to his hands.

"Never again," he murmured to the dark. "Never again." The only answer he got was a soft breeze that played through his hair and the far off call of an owl. He put on his cloak and left. Harry didn't see the translucent figure of a tall man with aristocratic features emerge from the wall, followed shortly by the ghost of a rather soft and feminine looking woman. He didn't see their identical looks of sadness as they disappeared back into the depths of the castle.

_"I think this is worse than we thought. And I think it's going to get worse if we don't step in soon."_

"He's so strong, and he's been through so much."

"We know, but his troubles aren't over yet."

"He's going to need help."

"Albus?"

"Oh really Rowena, for being so smart you can be so very daft sometimes. Have you paid any attention to the events of the past couple of years? Albus may have good intentions but I hardly think he would know how to deal with this. "

"Well then who do you_ suggest Salazaar?"_

"Now, Rowena, I'm sure he didn't mean that to be insulting."

"Could we get back on the subject? We need to find that boy an anchor and fast. Once he comes into his full powers he's going to break without someone to lean upon."

"We know Godric, there's no need to state the obvious."

"How about Snape?"

"Helga!"

"It's who Salazaar had in mind, isn't it dear?"

"Indeed."

"Hmm. Not a bad choice. Brave, intelligent, unerring in his loyalties despite the odds, and cunning. Though I think if you told him he possessed traits from each of our Houses he would be kind of insulted."

"I didn't have him in mind because of his 'balanced' personality. I had him in mind because I think he's the only one who Harry is going to trust in the long run, even if he is kind of an arrogant prat."

"No need to be insulting, love. He is in your House after all."

"Hmph. Whoever said I was being insulting Helga?"

"He does have some of your more, shall we say, charming personality quirks."

"Laugh it up Rowena."

"Well now that we have that settled, lets see what we can do to speed this little alliance along, shall we?"

"Indeed."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: yadda yadda yadda...don't own it, please don't sue me...etc, etc, etc.

**Scarlet Pain **

Chapter Six

For all his determination to show no fear, Harry still felt the first threads of panic as he made his way to his detention with Snape. Was the Professor still angry with him for what had happened? Would he be subjected to that blood-freezing glare again? And, even has his rational mind mocked him for his own insecure stupidity, the lone thought of 'would the Potions Master hurt him?' refused to disappear completely.

Severus heard the knock on his office door and knew that Harry had arrived. He desperately willed his now constant headache away before muttering a distinct "Enter." 

Harry entered slowly and closed the door behind him. For a long moment they just looked at each other. Severus noted with cold amusement the struggle in the young man's eyes between terror and defiance.

"Come here Potter." Harry swallowed and walked slowly to stand in front of Snape's desk. The Professor's eyes narrowed. "You will be starting your Occlumency lessons again." Harry's eyes widened in horror. Occlumeny meant that his professor would be able to get inside his head again.

"But – "

Severus sneered at him and cut him off. "Indeed. I can assure you I look forward to this about as much as you do." He knew he was hedging on the truth with that last statement. "You will be meeting me every Tuesday and Thursday after dinner until you have mastered it. Understood?" Harry swallowed again and nodded. "Good."

In one swift movement Severus stood and placed himself between Harry and the rest of the room, effectively keeping him from backing away because of the desk. To his benefit, Harry barely flinched besides a muffled squeak of surprise. Snape smirked and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Harry looked up at him defiantly.

"Now, I want you tell me what you were doing last night in Myrtle's bathroom with Draco." He watched as all the defiance disappeared into nervousness.

"I – " Harry stuttered. Severus raised an eyebrow. "Using the bathroom?" _Oh, good one Potter. _

"Really. I was under the impression that that is a girls' bathroom, is it not."

"It is."

"Then what were you doing in there." Snape leaned forward and hissed, "And don't you dare lie to me." Harry's throat went dry.

"I wanted to be alone," he choked out. "But Draco was already there."

"And why would you go into a girl's bathroom to be alone in the first place?"

"No one goes in there cause of Moaning Myrtle and the whole entrance to the Chamber thing. So I go there when – " He stopped suddenly and looked up at the Professor with wide eyes.

"When _what_ Potter?"

"When – when I don't want to be around people." Oh Merlin, if only the man would back up a bit he might regain some control over his nerves.

"So our resident celebrity is trying to hide from his fans, is he?" Snape knew this was cruel but he wanted to see how far he had to push Potter to get a reaction beyond this Longbottom nervousness.

"That's not true!" Apparently not far. "I never asked for any of this you know!" Suddenly Harry paled and tried to take a step back, only to hit the desk. He shivered as he looked up at the unmoving Potions Master warily.

"Indeed," Snape sneered at him. There was – another – long pause during which Severus let the Gryffindor attempt to get his nerves under control. "What happened after you went to 'be alone?'" he couldn't help the sneer that had snuck back into his voice. Harry blinked in surprise at the abrupt change in subject, then glared up at his professor.

"What did it look like?" He muttered.

"What do you _think_ it looked like?" Snape voice oozed with his trademark sarcasm. "A bloody Mr. Malfoy and you, Mr. Potter, with his knife in your hands." Harry's head snapped up to look at him, intense green eyes wide with fear. He barely resisted the urge to look around frantically for an exit. There was no point anyways considering his position made it impossible to move without getting closer to Snape.

"I – I didn't. I didn't do that. I swear!" Severus noticed with a twinge of alarm the very sudden change in demeanor. The young man's eyes that had just seconds ago held an albeit nervous defiance were now clouded with panic and desperate denial. "It wasn't me, Professor. I – I was trying to. He was. I didn't – " Harry didn't notice Snape's calculated look as he interrupted.

"Shoving the blame elsewhere? How like a Potter – "

"No! I didn't!" There was a shocked silence before Harry lunged toward the door; but Snape was faster, grabbing the young man firmly by the wrist.

Harry jerked with surprise, his wide expressive eyes staring at the professor in dismay. Part of him, the part that had somehow come to trust and adore the Potions Master in the last year struggled with his very real fear just as he struggled to get his wrist free.

Severus saw the conflict in Harry's eyes, even if he didn't fully comprehend it. With another swift movement he had grabbed the Gryffindor's other wrist, turned so that he was facing away from the professor, and pulled him close. Harry gasped and struggled harder, but Snape was relentless. Unfortunately for the Potions Master, his body was quickly, and innappropriately responding the young body writhing in his arms and he was suddenly very glad for the many layers he wore even under his heavy robes.

"Stop struggling Harry!" He hissed out in the young man's ear. Harry stopped struggling, startled by the sound of his name coming from the mouth of his Potions Professor, but his body still trembled.

_No tears, Potter. Remember. No tears._ Harry squeezed his eyes shut and willed them away. When he spoke he was surprised to see how steady, if quiet, it was. "What are you doing, Professor?"

"Do you trust me?"

Oh Merlin. He wanted to answer honestly and say yes, he really did, but in doing so he would leave himself open to be taken advantage of. The grip on him tightened almost desperately, and Harry wondered idly if maybe Snape _was_ desperate for him to trust him. For some reason the thought felt almost comforting.

"Do you trust me, Harry?" His voice was not gentle by any means, but it didn't cut him like before, or mock him. It was almost as if the Potions Master was trying to be considerate or comforting. Despite his fears Harry found himself telling him the truth.

"Yes." The answer was soft and Severus felt the body in his arms tense, as if waiting for some kind of blow. He realized sadly that it probably was.

"Do you trust me not to hurt you?"

"Yes." It was almost sounded as if he regretted it.

"If you trust me, then why are you still scared of me?"

"I – I can't help it."

"Will you tell me why?"

"I can't. Please don't make me tell." By now Harry's voice was barely above a whisper. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell, but he didn't think he could bear it if the Potions Master knew and was disgusted with him. If he told, he would lose all chance of gaining the man's respect. This was one problem he needed to deal with on his own.

Severus knew not to push, and just as quickly as he'd grabbed him, he let Harry go. The young man stumbled forward and turned to look at him. The expected tears weren't there, but in those beautiful green eyes – he did not just think that? – were filled with pain and a pleading, whether for help or understanding he wasn't sure. Another emotion was visible, barely, an emotion he hadn't expected to see in the young man's face: hope. It disturbed him. He had never given or been the hope of anyone, nor had he ever tried to be. Hope was dangerous. Hope lead to wounds too deep to heal. Severus backed up stiffly, throwing up his Slytherin façade.

Harry saw Snape's features harden and twisted his hands together in nervousness.

"Dismissed Potter. I expect to see you here tomorrow at the same time."

Back to last names then. Harry tried to not let his confusion and hurt show at the brusque dismissal, though he wasn't sure if he succeeded. Just as he was about to leave he heard his professor's voice calling him back.

"Potter, there are better places to go for solitude than a girls bathroom. I've…heard that the grove of pines on the east side of is not often frequented." There's also a rather beautiful wild flower garden there as well, though he didn't mention it. He glanced up when he realized that Harry was still there, and smiling at him.

"Thank you professor," the young man said quietly before leaving quickly. Severus couldn't help the next thought that passed through his mind. _He should smile more often._

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Do I even need to repeat myself? sighs Fine. I don't own anything in Harry Potter, that honor goes to J.K. Rowling. So please don't sue me.

**Scarlet Pain **

Chapter Seven

Harry went back to the Gryffindor tower and straight to bed, ignoring the curious and apprehensive stares he had been getting since the beginning of term. He wasn't quite sure why the students had taken to staring at him this time; he didn't realize that they had sensed a distinct change in him from last year. The 'Boy-Who-Lived' had taken to ignoring everyone around him, and jumped or flinched whenever approached too closely. His once sparkling eyes now held a permanent dazed expression. He looked like someone who had been Kissed by a Dementor, but acted like a cornered snake. A very twitchy, nervous, and dangerous cornered snake.

Rumors had started going around. Some students whispered that he'd caught and tortured by Death Eaters over the summer, some said that Dark Lord had been possessing him and that any day now the scarred boy would turn on the school. Other students said that his Muggle family had him locked away in an institution because he was crazy. What they didn't realize was the uncanny similarities between their own rumors and the truth.

Nightmares and visions plagued the green-eyed boy. Every time the Dark Lord was angry, gleeful, or so bored he needed "entertainment" he could feel it as a searing pain in his scar. With every vision he could feel every curse Voldemort cast during that time. He would wake, trembling and in terror. When it was a vision, he would tell Dumbledore, but usually it was 'just' a nightmare. Nightmares were almost worse. Visions of his Uncle Vernon, of Mr. Collins, of Voldemort, Death Eaters, of his parents, of Cedric, of Sirius, and of Dementors plagued his sleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night Harry awoke from another such nightmare. For a while he just laid there on his bad, staring blankly at the ceiling. Once his breathing reached a relatively normal speed, Harry grabbed his father's cloak and headed out into the night. He wandered aimlessly for a while, wondering if he could get away with visiting that grove Severus had mentioned earlier that day, but quickly changed his mind. It was full moon out tonight and he didn't want to get stuck in a dangerous situation. Besides, he had a lot of thinking to do, and if he were constantly keeping senses fully alert for any sign of danger, he would never have a chance to organize his thoughts. Once again, Harry found himself climbing the stairs of the Astronomy Tower.

Unbeknownst to the Boy-Who-Refused-to-Die, a young blonde Slytherin was sneaking out of his new rooms in search of place to gather his thoughts as well. What this young man didn't know was that he wasn't all that good at sneaking out from under the care of a man who was not only a spy, but also the Head of Slytherin House.

Draco kept to the shadows, taking more care than Harry had because he didn't have the added advantage of having an Invisibility Cloak. Unlike the young Gryffindor, Draco knew exactly where he wanted to go: the Astronomy Tower.

Whenever he'd needed a place to just be, and he didn't want to have to worry about some whiny ghost that never knew when to shut the hell up, he went the tower. Peeves rarely went up there, and he didn't think even Filch looked up there all that often. What Draco found amusing was that even with the benefit of almost guaranteed privacy, few couples ever took advantage of the Astronomy Tower.

The blonde stopped suddenly and quietly hid in the shadows of the stairwell. There, looking out of the tower window was Potter. The Gryffindor's cloak was pushed back and a rather persistent wind had caught the silky fabric, tugging it to and fro around Harry's body. The effect was eerie, and if Draco hadn't known what a real ghost looked like, he would have thought that the young man before him did not belong to the land of the living.

Harry let the breeze play across his face and closed his eyes. The tower was strangely comforting, and it almost felt as if the castle itself was gently caressing him along with the air. He let his mind wander, going over the day's events, shuffling them, organizing them, then letting them go. It was almost like meditating. Harry wondered with a slight frown why he hadn't thought of this before. He opened his eyes slowly and looked down at his hands. In his minds eye he could still see the blood from his dreams, coating his hands in crimson. He gave a small shudder and looked out of the window again.

"They're all going to die, and I can't save them," he whispered to the castle. A quiet intake of breath broke Harry's concentration and he turned his head towards the shadows. Draco stepped forward slowly. "You will too you know. Just like the others." Harry turned away from the blonde. "Just like everyone else."

"No I won't."

"What makes you so sure?" There was no malice in the question, just genuine curiosity.

"Because the Dark Lord could never win against someone like you." Harry let out a bitter laugh and refused to look at the Slytherin.

"Then you're a fool." There was a long silence, not uncomfortable, but heavy nonetheless.

"I'm surprised at you Potter. Besides your failed attempt at challenging my superior wisdom, you haven't once in the past few weeks responded to any taunting or baiting." Harry finally turned to look at him, an expressionless mask on his face. "In fact, you haven't been yourself at all this year. I wouldn't even be surprised if you suddenly  
told me that you didn't hate me, or Snape for that matter. You do realize how disturbing that is, don't you?" Draco raised an eyebrow and gave him a pointed look. Harry just sighed.

"I don't. Hate either of you I mean. I don't know if I ever really did." This time it was Draco's turn to laugh. "I'm serious. I may have disliked you, despised you even. But never hate. As much of a prat as you can be, you don't deserve hate from anyone."

"Touching Potter. Truly touching."

"What do you want Malfoy?" Draco was surprised by Harry's sudden and unexpected change of attitude. "Are you here to get revenge for me finding you? Are you going to mock me for what I did? What? I'm tired, Malfoy. I'm sick to death of fighting with you. I'm sick to death of everything right now, so if you're going to do something, do it now and get it over with. I don't have the strength to play word games with you so now's your chance." He was glaring at the speechless blonde, daring him to something, anything.

Draco eyes shuttered, and instead of responding he brushed past Potter and leaned against the windowsill. Harry stood frozen to the spot, warily watching the young Slytherin.

"I came here to think, if you must know. I didn't expect you here."

"Oh." Harry said softly. "Sorry."

"Don't be. Now that you're here, and there's no one else around, I have something I want to tell you." Harry visibly stiffened. Draco turned to him, emotions hidden firmly behind hooded eyes. "I'm not used to saying this, and I don't know if you'll ever get the chance to hear it again from me, but thanks." Harry blinked in surprise.

"Whatever for?"

"For caring, or at least pretending to. You didn't have to try and stop me, but you did. I don't think any of my 'friends'" he sneered the word, "would have been so daring."

There was another loaded silence before Draco spoke up again. "And if you tell anyone I said that I'll deny every word."

"I don't think anyone would believe me anyways," Harry chuckled softly.

"I do have a question for you Potter." Harry nodded. "Why isn't it worth it?"

Why indeed? Harry stood quietly for a while, thinking. "Because what's the point in adding to the pain? If you're being hurt, there's no sense in giving yourself more hurt." He paused, and then shaking his head, continued. "I know it's something that only you have control over, that when you look at the scar you've made, you see something that _you_ did, as an expression of what's inside. That control, that feeling of release every time the blade comes down, it's hard to give up. But when you think about it, all you're doing by adding to the pain is letting them win. Don't you get it? That's what they want. They want you to be so buried beneath the pain and guilt that you can't see anything else." Draco realized that Harry had stopped answering his question. It was almost as if the young man was more trying to convince himself than anyone else; but the blonde had a new understanding now. He may not be able to stop, the power of having some small amount of control over his body was addicting, but maybe he would be able to get past it sooner, rather than later.

"I think, Harry," the Gryffindor's eyes locked with the blonde's in shock. "I think you should consider what you're saying, and try to get past whatever guilt is stopping you from living." Harry's eyes, if possible, widened even further, before narrowing in anger and the ever-present fear. Draco took a cautious step forward, but the other backed up quickly.

"Don't. Just don't." Harry's voice trembled slightly. Without another word he fled down the stairs, past the hidden form of the Potions Master and all the way back to the Gryffindor tower. He would get no sleep for the rest of the night.

Draco watched after him sadly. "Professor, I know you're there," he said wearily. Snape drew forward out of the shadows and looked at his godson coolly.

"And what, pray tell, was that all about?"

"If you can't see, Professor, then I don't think me telling you is going to make a difference."

"Indeed," Snape said coldly.

"Oh, come off it Severus! He needs help, and he needs to know that he can help others. I'm trying to give him both." Draco looked up into the scowling countenance of his godfather and hissed angrily. "I don't care what your bloody problem is with him, or if it's even him you hate so much and not his father. Oh don't look so surprised. Every time you berate, yell, or insult him in or out of class you bring up his father, so don't be so shocked that it's almost common knowledge by now that you and Potter's dad didn't get along. But people don't choose their parents, and as much as you may hate to admit it, you do have a heart. So use it. I'm trying to help the one person who can save us, yes I know that's selfish, but don't you dare screw this up for me. You go and redeem yourself in whatever way you see fit, let me do it in mine." Draco suddenly stopped, shocked and unsure as to where that rant had some from. And from the look on Severus' face, so was he. As the blonde turned to leave, Snape caught his arm.

"I don't hate him," he said quietly.

"I know," Draco replied, just as softly. In silence, the two Slytherins returned to their chambers, each lost in thought.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Don't own. Please don't sue. Remember, this is SLASH (male/male relationships).

**Scarlet Pain **

Chapter Eight

Hermione and Ron cuddled together on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, conversing quietly with one another. It was late in the afternoon and the seventh year Gryffindors had a couple of free hours before dinner. Surprisingly enough, Hermione had decided that today they wouldn't spend every spare minute in the library. Besides, there were at least three weeks before their next major exam, and she wanted to talk to Ron privately. As expected, Harry had disappeared up to his room after half an hour "to take a much needed nap." His friends silently agreed; even the glamours weren't completely hiding the harsh signs of his exhaustion. Dark circles under his eyes and drooping shoulders were only a part of it.

"Have you noticed a change in him in the past few days?"

"Not really, why?"

"I don't know, but he's been acting less… something. And I think he's getting quieter."

"Maybe Madam Pomfrey has been talking to him?"

"Maybe." There was a long silence as the two of them stared into the fireplace.

"Hermione, I know this may not seem like the best time, and I'll totally understand if you say no. I mean, we've only been dating for a few months now, and considering the whole Dark Lord war thing so it may not even be an issue – "

"Ron, just ask." The redhead shifted nervously.

"Wouldyoubewillingtomoveinwithmeaftergraduation?"

"What?"

"I said: Would you be willing to move in with me after graduation?" There was a shocked pause before Hermione flung herself at the youngest Weasley son.

"I'd love to!"

"Oh thank Merlin." Ron gave an almost comical sigh of relief and returned Hermione's hug enthusiastically.

"Ooh, this is going to be so much fun!" They both smiled at each other. For the rest of the time before dinner the stayed cuddled next to each other, lost in thought with almost sickeningly cute grins on their faces.

Harry stumbled into the Great Hall, late for dinner, and slid tiredly in next to his two friends.

"You okay there mate?"

"Yeah, thanks Ron." He looked up, slightly bleary-eyed, at his friend and noticed that the redhead was grinning from ear to ear. Even Hermione had an excited smile plastered onto her face. "Spill," he said bluntly.

"We're moving in together after graduation." Harry allowed himself to smile, for their sake.

"That's great you guys!" He managed to sound convincingly excited for them, even if on the inside he felt somewhat left out. He angrily pushed his selfish thoughts aside. He probably wouldn't survive until after graduation anyways.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Hermione asked him, intuitively picking up on his somber mood.

"No, I'm not that hungry. I think my detention with Snape has destroyed whatever appetite I may have." Before they could respond, he shoved his still clean plate aside and left. The two other Gryffindors looked after him worriedly.

"You know Ron, I think we should have a talk with our Potions Professor."

"WHAT?" The Gryffindor table suddenly went silent and Hermione elbowed him harshly and hissed at him to be quiet. "Are you off your rocker 'Mione?" he hissed back. "Why in the name of all that his sacred should we talk to that greasy bastard?"

"Not here Ron." Hermione got up quickly and dragged Ron out of the Great Hall with her. Soon enough the redhead found himself shoved into an empty classroom.

"Ron, we have to tell him to lay off on the intimidation with Harry."

"Right, and he'll be so compliant, especially if we say please."

"Leave the sarcasm to Malfoy, it doesn't suit you. And I'm serious."

"I am too! Are you nuts? Snape hates Harry. Do you honestly think he'll do anything with whatever information we tell him, other than use it against Harry? Merlin, Hermione, even you should realize that!" Ron knew the minute he said those words that it had been the wrong thing to say.

"And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?" 

"I'm sorry love, I didn't mean that the way it sounded. It's just that, you see how Snape treats him. Can't you see that he'll only sneer at us and maybe deduct points for some trumped up reason, then turn around and humiliate Harry in front of the whole school!"

"How do you know, maybe he won't." But even to her own ears, Hermione didn't sound convinced. She sighed. "We need to figure out something. Did you see how he was last night after his detention? I was surprised he even made it back he was shivering so hard."

"I know, and he disappeared last night, literally. He took his father's cloak and went out, though I'm not sure where. I only noticed he was gone when I got up to use the bathroom."

"What would happen if he had a panic attack in the middle of detention?" Ron's eyes widened, the prospect hadn't occurred to him before.

"Oh bloody hell."

"Exactly my point. If you think Snape is going to be horrible with whatever information we give him, then how do you think he'll act if Harry freaks out on him?"

"Oh bloody hell."

"You're being redundant." There was a pause then Hermione's eyes brightened. "What if we told Madam Pomfrey to talk to him? She said she was going to help, and Snape is more likely to listen to her than to us anyways." Ron nodded slowly, thinking it over in his head.

"I think," he said after a bit. "I think we should go find Pomfrey right now, and pray that Harry's detention tonight goes smoothly."

With that the two Gryffindors left in search of their resident Medi-Witch.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Okay, honestly, if I owned Harry Potter, would I really be writing this?

**Scarlet Pain **

Chapter Nine

For the third time that week, Harry knocked nervously at the Potion Master's office door. This time Severus opened the door himself, giving just enough room for Harry to slip by. The young Gryffindor swallowed hard and, keeping his gaze firmly affixed to his Potions professor, stepped hurriedly into the room before backing up to a safe distance. Snape walked over and leaned against the front of his desk, arms crossed and looking at Harry as if he was a particularly challenging potion.

"Come here Potter." Harry swallowed again and took a few timid steps forward until he was standing right in front of his professor. The older man's face was completely unreadable, a fact that made Harry even more nervous. The young man twisted his hands together, unable to stop to hide his anxiousness.

"Put your arms out in front of you, wrists up."

"P-Professor?" Harry shivered, eyes widening in confusion.

"Now, Potter." Once again, the tone that brooked no argument. So the young man stretched out his hands to the Potions Master, hands shaking visibly. Snape pushed up Harry's sleeves, causing the young man to start in surprise. He barely heard Severus mutter the anti-glamour spell. No marks that looked self-induced marred Harry's wrists, for which the Potions Master was extremely grateful; one physically self-abusive student was all he thought he could handle at this point. Yet there were other marks that concerned the professor. Scarring from what appeared to be rope burns – possibly left over from the incident of the year before, though not necessarily – wrapped around his wrists and forearms. Then another thought struck him. But how to phrase the question in a way that wouldn't terrify poor Potter?

"I want to see your shoulders as well," Snape swallowed. "Please," his teeth clenched around the word. "Remove your outer robes." Harry paled.

"Why do you need me to – to?" Harry stuttered around his words. "Why do you want to see my shoulders?" Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling yet another headache come on.

"Just do it Potter," he growled and noticed when Potter flinched, eyes becoming, if possible, even wider. "Bloody hell Potter, I'm not going to hurt you!" Harry took an involuntary step back at the professor's harsh tone, but slipped his out robes off. Underneath he wore oversized Muggle clothing that he seemed to disappear in. A tattered rope held up pants that looked, even with the makeshift belt, closed to slipping down his slim, almost effeminate frame. The long sleeve shirt hung loosely on his shoulders. Snape raised an eyebrow and Harry blushed, looking away. He didn't even flinch when he felt Severus' hands push the baggy sleeves up to expose his shoulders, though his eyes clenched shut as his entire body stiffened. A quick check showed that they were unmarked. Satisfied, Snape dropped his hands and took a step back. Harry quickly pushed his sleeves down and wrapped his robes protectively around him.

There was a long drawn out silence, uncomfortable and heavily loaded with suspicion.

"Potter, hold out your wrists again." The young man lifted his arms silently. Severus grasped them firmly and tugged Harry forward a couple steps. The Gryffindor froze completely as he found himself almost inches from Potions Master's chest.

"What are you doing Professor?" Harry was beginning to tremble again, and he cursed himself inwardly at his cowardice. For months now it seemed as if his fear was controlling him, not the other way around. And it always seemed to be accompanied by that sick chill that clung to his chest and throat.

The Potions Master was silent, emotions warring inside him. Part of him still felt resentment towards Potter, resentment at his father, and the boy's popularity and arrogance. He had the sudden urge to scare Potter shitless, as revenge for all the torment Potter Sr. had put him through. But when he looked down at the raven-haired wizard, he no longer saw James Potter, nor did he see Lily either. He saw a young man who'd been forced into a position no child should be put in. Yet Harry was a child no longer.

Without a word, Severus pushed Harry's arms behind his back and transferred the boy's wrists into one hand. The young Gryffindor gasped quietly and tried to step back. Finding that he couldn't move away, Harry began to panic. He twisted in Snape's arms, quietly hyperventilating.

"Calm down Potter, I'm not going to hurt you," The Potions Master tried to keep his trademark sarcasm from his voice, though he was only mostly successful.

"Professor please don't – I – why – what are you doing?" He whimpered softly when Severus firmly grabbed Harry's chin with his free hand and forced the young man to look at him. Harry stopped struggling and stared up at his professor.

"Are you afraid of me right now?" Harry swallowed hard.

"Yes." To his chagrin his voice sounded small and scared and childlike. Part of Severus wanted to laugh gleefully. He had after all, made it his goal to instill terror in the hearts of his students; but this, to put lightly, was definitely not the time.

"Do you feel powerless right now?" Harry shivered. Why was Snape asking him these things? What was the Potions Master getting out of this? Yet the question that stood out in his mind, despite his more cynical half that laughed at his idealism and trust was: was it possible that his professor actually cared? The thought confused him. Not only did the Potions Master despise him, however unfair the reason it was still understandable, but there was no reason for him to care about a sniveling coward who couldn't even protect himself against spiteful Muggles. At least, that was Harry's reasoning

"Answer the question Harry." The young man started at the use of his name, though he figured he shouldn't be all that surprised considering the older man had used it the night before. The Gryffindor nodded his head in shame and refused to meet his professor's gaze. "Look at me Harry." The younger man reluctantly looked up into the dark gaze of his professor.

"Do you fear me because you believe I have complete control over you right now?" Harry felt his eyes sting, but he blinked hard, and forced the most obvious sign of weakness away. He would not cry, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the Potions Master.

"Yes," he said brokenly, sounding defeated. Harry slumped in Snape's arms, refusing to make a fool of himself by struggling against the man that was so obviously stronger than him. Severus watched as the young man's eyes glazed over, as if the Gryffindor had given up resisting from whatever horrible fate he expected.

"Harry, look at me!" Snape's harsh voice brought Harry back with a start. "Why do you believe you are powerless right now?" The young man just looked at him in shock and confusion, gazing at the Potions Master as if he's grown a second head.

"Professor?"

"Why do you believe that?"

"I don't understand." Harry panicked slightly. How was he supposed to answer that question? Snape raised an elegant eyebrow. Harry stiffened and twisted his wrists, trying to tug his head free from his professor's firm grip. Severus just tightened his hold. "Does that answer your question Professor?" he said quietly, and once again let himself go limp.

There was another long silence as Severus contemplated how best to go about this. Finally he spoke.

"Do you trust me?" There was that damned question again. Harry struggled inwardly, trying to sort through his feelings. It was very hard to think straight when your body was fighting against fear, and the somewhat startling feeling comfort, trapped as he was in the Potions Master's arms.

"I – I don't know, sir. I think," Harry bit his lip. "Yes I do."

"You don't want to." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Trust is dangerous." Harry's eyes widened and he clamped his mouth shut. But Snape's eyes glittered with something akin to amusement. Now that was surprising.

"True. Would you believe me if I told you you have control right now?" The young Gryffindor looked at him dubiously and didn't answer. "You do," Snape continued.

"How?" Harry's voice cracked a bit.

"You can tell me to let you go." The rave-haired wizard looked at his professor in shock. He realized that yes, he could say no. That wouldn't stop the Professor from doing whatever he wanted though. Saying no hadn't worked yet so far.

"But – " Snape raised his eyebrow again.

"But what?"

"But what I say doesn't matter?" Harry looked up at him confused, at a loss for how to express himself. "What I want – say doesn't have any impact on you."

Snape's eyes darkened in fury. Whoever was responsible for this had really done a number on the young Gryffindor. Severus realized with a sickening feeling in his stomach that more than one person had contributed to this, not least of all himself. c_My god, what have we done? What have I done?_

Harry saw his professor grow inexplicably angry and shivered. What had he said? Snape looked down at the wide-eyed wizard trembling in his arms and tried to shove his anger away until a later time.

"Harry, I cannot make promises for everyone outside this room, but I will tell you this. In here, with me, I want you to know that I will never intentionally harm you. I will never repeat what goes on in here to others, and I will not force you to do anything against your will unless it's to keep you from harm. Do you understand?" Harry looked at his professor in shock.

"I – I think so." Severus looked at him pointedly and Harry swallowed.

"Professor, please let me go," Harry stiffened slightly as soon as the near inaudible words escaped his lips, but he needn't have worried. The words were barely out of his mouth before the Potions Master had completely released him and taken a few steps back. Only then did the implications of what had gone on truly hit Harry. He looked up at his professor in shock, trying to ignore the sudden loss he felt as Severus' arms pulled away.

"You let go," he said dumbly.

"Indeed."

"But, I don't understand."

"What is there to not understand Potter? You asked me to let you go and I did."

"But, why?"

"Is it really so hard a concept to grasp?"

"No, I mean," Harry scowled at himself. "Why are you doing this for me? I – you hate me." Severus sighed; it was a fair question, even if it was one that he wasn't sure he could answer.

"I don't hate you. Hate should be reserved for individuals such as the Dark Lord. Find you obnoxious and annoying? Yes, I do find you those things. But in all honesty, even if I wanted to I couldn't hate you. I don't even know you."

"Oh." Harry worried his lower lip. He wanted to tell the professor that he didn't hate him either, hadn't for some time really, but he knew it would only sound like a false platitudes coming from him right now. "Thank you."

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Umm, yeah, don't own 'em.

**Scarlet Pain **

Chapter Ten

Severus poured himself a tumbler of Firewhiskey and relaxed into the couch in front of his fire. Draco and gone to sleep and he had finally he finished correcting the students' essays, tweaking his lesson plans, and wrapping up the batch of basic pain reliever potion Poppy had asked him for the day before. Alas, his relaxation was not to last and Snape barely managed not to spill his drink all over himself when Albus' head made a sudden appearance in his fireplace.

"Ah, Severus, I'm glad you're awake. Would you mind visiting this poor old man for a bit of tea and conversation?" It was amazing how the old coot could make his requests sound so optional. Snape glared at the Headmaster.

"Yes, actually, I would mind," the Potions Master growled.

"Severus, surely you can spare a few moments. This really is rather urgent." Severus growled again and stormed out of his private chambers. It was probably a good thing that all the students had gone to bed (well, hopefully all of them, though with his luck there was bound to be at least one foolish Gryffindor getting into trouble), because the Potions professor was in no mood to deal with foolish bratty children. Knowing he was about to deal with a bratty old man was enough for him.

"Pocky," he hissed at the gargoyle, briefly wondering what the hell kind of sugary confection that was, before storming into the Headmaster's office with his normal dramatic flare. To his chagrin, Severus noticed that three other people were present: Poppy, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. Snape sneered at the two Gryffindor students, a sinking feeling in his chest. Weasley just stared back defiantly at him, while the Granger girl gave him a calculated look before turning back to the Headmaster.

"Ah Severus, good of you to join us! Tea?"

"No thank you," Snape bit out and resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands. Why couldn't that twinkly-eyed old coot let him sleep? Or more accurately, allow him to drown his headache in alcohol in hopes postponing it.

"Well then, now that you're here. Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger, would you two care to repeat what you have told Madam Pomfrey?" Ron shifted in his seat and gave a nervous glance at his potions professor. Hermione was the first to speak up.

"Last year, after – after Sirius died, Harry…changed."

"How so?" the Headmaster asked. Ron was the one that answered.

"He withdrew, he stopped talking and started studying more."

"At first we thought he was depressed because of Sirius. Or that," she shifted in her seat. "Or maybe confused 'cause he was gay. He didn't know that it wasn't quite as stigmatized in the Wizarding world as it is in the Muggle, so it was understandable that he was having issues. Not to mention that his first love had just died –" Hermione stopped and shook her head. After taking a quick breath she continued. "Beside the point. Anyways, he got worse, sort of." Snape sneered at the two young Gryffindors.

"Eloquent as always. Either he got worse or he didn't."

"Severus, will you hush up?" Poppy scolded him. "This is important." Snape glowered at her but held his tongue. Madam Pomfrey nodded at the two students to continue. This time Ron picked up the thread.

"He started sneaking off at night to go to the Room of Requirement. Hermione and I thought that he – he was going to try something –"

"Self-destructive. So we followed him and found him practicing defensive and offensive magic. He'd found a way to get a boggart into the room, as well as some moving targets that actually fought back." Hermione's eyes shifted a little, she was leaving out something. Ron reached out and grabbed her hand.

"We told him we were going to practice with him. He tried to get us to leave, but well," Ron shrugged. "He still went without us sometimes, but generally we went with him. He was still distant, but we figured things were working themselves out." He shook his head. "I can't believe we were so stupid."

"We've had this discussion before, Ron. How could we have known?"

"The signs were all there 'Mione! Remember that time with the boggart?" Hermione was quiet.

"What time with the boggart?" Albus asked them. This had not come out in their previous discussion, and concerned him more than anything else so far. Only the two professors noticed that the twinkle in his eyes had all but disappeared.

"It was after Christmas Break. We thought it really odd that his family had requested him to go, they never wanted him there before, so it was kind of suspicious." There was a heavy silence. Though Snape was startled by the proclamation about Harry's relatives, all of them remembered the events of last Christmas. Somehow a group of Death Eaters had caught Harry outside the wards of his home a couple of days before classes were to begin. The boy had escaped, barely, and with the unnoticed help of the Potions Master (who had warned Albus ahead of time). The experience had been traumatic for Harry, to say the least. Once again the boy had been caught with the use of a portkey and taken to the place where his parents had met their own dismal fate. After taking Potter's wand they had left him in the presence of a Dementor for over an hour, after giving him a small taste of Death Eater torture. Only the timely arrival of Aurors had saved the boy from receiving the Kiss. Severus shuddered. He hadn't been there, thank Merlin, but he still remembered the haunted look Potter had carried around with him for the rest of the term. Finally Hermione continued.

"We thought the change was because of – what happened. But then one night we found him in the Room with a boggart – " Ron jumped in.

"Before, it always turned into a Dementor for Harry. But this time it had turned into this man we didn't recognize. We thought he was a Death Eater, but I don't know."

"We found him curled up in the corner screaming and clutching his scar. When he saw us he panicked and ran."

"We should have followed him," Ron said darkly. "There are so many things we should have done."

"As touching as that sentiment may be, are you two going to get a point sometime tonight?" Snape snarled. He was not liking how this conversation was going. It hit too sensitive a nerve in him.

"Severus," Albus gave him a serious look, sans twinkle, before nodding at them to continue. Ron glared balefully at the Potions Master and Hermione narrowed her eyes. The bushy-haired Gryffindor squeezed her boyfriend's hand before pushing on.

"We knew he had refused to get medical attention for his injuries, saying that they were scratches, really, and most of the damage was Cruatious caused. But we knew he was using glamours." Snape snorted indelicately. Vain Gryffindor. Ron pierced him with his own version of the patented Death Glare.

"What do you know Professor?" the young red-head exploded. "Have you even seen the scars on his body? I did, once, when he wasn't aware. Have you ever been woken up by his screams at night? I did for two years until he mastered silencing charms! He doesn't sleep, he barely eats, all he does is study and read. He spends all his spare time hiding, possibly practicing defense in the Room. He doesn't talk anymore than necessary to fool everyone into believing he's on this side of okay. Half the school thinks he's the Dark Lord's protégé, and now I can't give him a hug without him freaking out!" There was a shocked silence. Snape glared at Ron but Hermione spoke up before he could dock points.

"He became different Headmaster. He's not Harry anymore. Something happened to him, and it's all because of those filthy relatives of his!" This silence was filled with even more shock than the last. It had been the last thing anyone save Ron had expected from the young Gryffindor.

"If you've been so worried, why have you waited until now to come forward?" Snape couldn't help the sarcasm or the sneer that had made its way into his honest question.

"We didn't have any proof," Ron bit out. "Then things started getting out of hand so we talked to Madam Pomfrey." Snape raised an eyebrow. "He doesn't respond well to guys, so we figured she would be the best choice."

"I told them I would be discreet and try to help him myself before taking it up with you, Albus. This time after trauma is very delicate, and I needed to gain his trust. Mr. Weasley was right, without his word, we had no proof of misdeeds." Albus sighed heavily. There was no twinkle in his sad eyes, the only evidence that the news had hit him hard.

"What have you found Poppy?"

"And why am I here?" Severus mumbled to himself.

"Nothing so far. Only some physical remnants of whatever he went through. But that could just as easily be contributed to what happened last Christmas. And he is reluctant to talk to me."

"So why exactly are we all here?" Snape's patience had run thin.

"You," Ron gritted his teeth.

"I beg your pardon?" The Potions Master's voice was silky and dangerous.

"For the past two nights he has returned from your detentions near hysteria and has refused to talk to anyone before going to bed. We haven't seen him yet tonight, but I can only imagine what state you've gotten him into!" Ron spat at him. Severus felt suddenly very, very cold.

"Ron," Poppy reprimanded. "As much as you care for your friend you will remember to respect your professors." Ron nodded glumly. "Severus, they have a point. I would appreciate it if you were not so harsh with my patient."

"It is not my job to coddle the students!"

"Professor Snape," Hermione broke in timidly. "Harry does not need coddling or pity or any of that. He needs understanding. I know he would probably never speak to me if he knew I was telling you this – " Ron paled.

"'Mione don't," he hissed.

"No, it needs to be said." The young Gryffindor looked Snape in the eye. "Harry trusts you sir. I have seen him try to earn your approval, if not your respect, ever since you saved him last Christmas. I don't know why you dislike him, I know he knows but he never told us, but he doesn't deserve it. Please Professor, try to see this from his point of view."

"Is that all?" Snape bit out.

"Yes, Severus," Albus sighed tiredly. "You all are dismissed. I have a lot to think about."

The Potions Master swept out of the room before anyone else had moved. He was tired, angry (though at who or what he wasn't sure), and he didn't want to think about what had just been discussed.

TBC


End file.
